The Bleeding Heart Show
by perpetual.self
Summary: Sophomore year at Greendale Community College: Debate Team, secrets, fursecution, and a brand new project for Abed, Troy, and Britta. Jeff/Annie with other pairings. Chapter 6 added 07/10/10. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: This is part 1 of 5. The story's title comes from the amazing song of the same name by The New Pornographers._

Annie had left the quad seconds after kissing Jeff. The crush of people fleeing the cafeteria had separated them, and she'd been grateful for it. She could, it seemed, only live in the moment for a few minutes at a time. After that, she was the same old Annie who needed to plan for every eventuality.

For the next week, events conspired to keep her from contacting Jeff: a broken cell phone, suspicious parents, and an e-mail languishing in her drafts folder. Then, at a coffee shop near campus, dodging Vaughn's friends and hoping to run in to someone from the group, she spotted two familiar heads bent close together over twin coffees. Jeff and Britta. Britta was looking down, her face hidden behind her blonde hair. At something Jeff said, she looked up at him, and the two laughed intimately.

Annie fled, unshed tears blurring her vision. There was a voicemail from Jeff waiting for her on her repaired phone, but she deleted it without listening.

After three months, the e-mail was still sitting on her hard drive. It had undergone countless re-writes, revisions, and addenda, to the point where it bore almost no resemblance to its original form. Annie kept writing it while she was dragged, miserable, to visit her perfect cousin who attended the most prestigious school in the west, and she edited it frequently during all the weeks she worked at her father's office without pay. In late August, she deleted it. Anything she had to say to Jeff was best said in person, and besides, she was discovering a new taste for procrastination.

First day of class, Annie made her way to the study room, which was occupied only by Shirley. She was scrubbing frantically at the table where she usually sat, using something that looked like a disinfecting wipe.

"Shirley! How are you? And what are you doing?"

"Annie, it's so nice to see you! I'm fine. Have a good summer?"

"Yes, thank you. But...what's going on? Did something spill on the table?"

"Oh, I'm just cleaning up."

Annie was confused. "Cleaning up after what? I've never seen you do this before."

Shirley had returned to her scrubbing, this time with a fresh towelette. With a resigned look, she started on the rest of the table, stopping only to frown up at Annie. "It's just that this table has been _used_."

"Used? Do you mean by the summer classes?"

"Something like that."

"I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure the janitorial crew did a good job of cleaning up. I don't see any crumbs or anything."

Shirley beckoned Annie closer. "You didn't hear this from me, right?"

"Of course not."

"Last spring. The paintball tournament. Jeff and Britta."

"Jeff and Britta what? You mean they were the last two standing?" Dread was beginning to blossom in the pit of her stomach.

"No, I mean - " Shirley lowered her voice significantly " - _Jeff and Britta_. On _our_ study table." She grimaced. "Not that they're not cute and all – well, Jeff walking out on her at the dance definitely wasn't cute, but I think they're past that – but they could show some consideration to the rest of us, and keep their business out of the study room and off of our table, if you know what I mean."

The dread had turned to nausea. Annie pulled her hands into tight, painful fists and tried to focus on Shirley's face. "Well, I can see why you wanted to clean off the table. What do you mean they're 'past that,' though? Did they get together over the summer?"

"I can't say for sure, but I did see them having lunch at a diner one day when I was out with the boys. They looked friendly enough, and I don't think they'd be out together if they hadn't reconciled. But who knows with those two." Shirley put her hand on Annie's arm. "Annie, honey, you okay? You're all pale all of a sudden."

"I'm fine. Just low blood sugar, I think. I was too stressed to have breakfast."

"Well, you sit down and have a snack. I'm going to go wash my hands before everyone else shows up."

Annie obediently sat in the nearest chair, which happened to be her own. Jeff and Britta. They were together, and not just as coffee buddies. And they'd had sex. Why was she even surprised? How many women had Jeff gone through in two semesters? Professor Slater. Pierce's step-daughter. That kid's mom? And Britta. That man-whore. She focused her vitriol on Jeff in order to distract herself from her own shame and embarrassment. How could she have thought she meant more to him than a passing make-out partner? Besides, he and Britta were obviously well-suited. Both had full command of that effortless, bitter repartee that could only signal that they were destined to be together.

"I hope those are Hawthorne Wipes." Pierce entered the room, eying Shirley's towelettes. "How was Vermont? Hippie paradise? Glad to see you're still shaving your legs."

Annie turned on him with venom. "I e-mailed everyone that I didn't go to Delaware months ago. And my personal hygiene is none of your business. Plus, they're not Hawthorne Wipes, because these actually have antibacterial properties."

Pierce raised his hands. "Whoa, whoa! Did you transform into Britta over the summer? Because this group already has its feminazi space taken. And I'll have you know that the antibacterial line of Hawthorne Wipes was rolled out in summer 2009." He gave her a winning smile. "I forgot to mention, it's nice to see you, Annie, and I hope you had a wonderful summer."

She felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Pierce, that was rude. I don't know what got into me. How was _your_ summer? Did you and Troy have fun?"

He shook his head at her sympathetically. "That time of the month, then?"

Jeff, Britta, Troy, and Abed entered the room in a cluster of chatter and laughter, but Jeff and Britta were more clustered, just like Troy and Abed always were. It was, Annie thought, more like two separate clusters of two temporarily joining forces to make a paired set. Shirley followed shortly, and the group, aside from Annie, coalesced into an single unit of hugs and greetings, with Jeff as its nucleus. Annie watched scornfully as Jeff said exactly the right thing to everyone, making them feel comfortable and welcomed with his silver-tongued, lawyerly deceptions. He'd been bamboozling them all since the beginning. She remembered how, last fall, she'd been awed by the fact that someone as handsome, cool, and accomplished as Jeff was willing to be part of their group. Well, that was over. She was done drinking the Jeff Winger Kool-Aid. She was going to handle this with icy dignity – no more dramatic outbursts – and –

She realized everyone had turned to stare at her. "Annie, are you okay?" Britta asked.

"She might be a little touchy this week, if you get my drift," Pierce informed everyone.

Britta and Shirley glared at Pierce, but Annie sprang up from her seat and said "I'm fine! Just so happy to see you guys!" She joined the group hug, ducking under Jeff's arm to avoid any contact with him, and warmly greeted everyone else. Jeff shot her a puzzled glance, but she ignored him.

Sitting around the table, they talked about the summer. Abed, Troy, and Pierce had watched the entire MST3K series and almost every RiffTrax. "They were funny, but I'm convinced we can do better," Abed announced. "We're going to do our own, starting with _Killers_ and _Eclipse_, which are both appropriately ridiculous. We want some special guest commentators, too. Any of you guys up for it?"

"I don't know if they're funny enough," Troy said, looking them over critically. "We might want to have them submit audition tapes."

"Nah, we've seen their work," Abed waved his hand.

"What?" Pierce yelped. "You made _me_ do an audition!"

Abed frowned at him. "After the _Kickpuncher_ debacle, we had to make sure you weren't going to have someone else ghost write your lines. That was a strike against you. We know, for example, that Annie's never going to cheat. It would go against her nature. Speaking of Annie, we didn't see you over the summer. I thought you might want to come to some of our movie nights when I sent out the general invitations."

"Yeah, Annie, where were you all summer?" Troy asked.

She squirmed. "I, was, uh, busy? With family stuff. And traveling."

"There's still a lot of tension in the group. I'm concerned that it may corrupt our signature dynamic," Abed said.

Britta squinched up her face. "Uh, yeah. About that. I want to apologize to all of you about what happened on prom night. I know I've talked to most of you since then, but not as a group. So, I'm sorry. It was ridiculous and I regret it. Can that be the end of it?"

There was a chorus of "Sure!" and "Certainly!" and "Of course!" from around the table, except from Pierce, who said, "Does that mean you and Jeff are banging?"

Shirley kicked Annie under the table and smirked.

Jeff scowled at Pierce, saying, "Britta asked that that be the end of it, so let's respect her wishes, okay?"

"He's being gallant, which means he's totally hitting that," Pierce announced.

"'Hitting that'? Who teaches him these things? Troy, didn't I talk to you about being more responsible about what slang terms you explain to Pierce?" Jeff was exasperated.

"He just picks them up! It's like trying to be careful around a little kid. I can't do it all the time."

As if on cue, Dean Pelton burst through the door of the study room. "Hello, all! Welcome back to another semester at Greendale! It just warms my heart to see you back here as a group, even after all the drama that occurred the last time we were together."

Britta slumped in her chair.

"Dude, the last time we saw _you_, you were slow-dancing with two people dressed up in Dalmatian costumes," Troy snickered.

Dean Pelton drew up stiffly. "Fursecution is a serious problem on today's college campus, and I'm scheduling a Furry Awareness and Tolerance week for later this semester. You, young man, would do well to attend."

"Fursecution?" Troy mouthed, bewildered.

Dean Pelton continued in a more modulated tone, "But that's not why I'm here. I want Greendale to replicate in 2010 the unmatched triumph it had in 2009. By that, of course, I mean a victory in the debate team regionals. Miss Edison has already committed, but her former partner has unfortunately transferred, so I'm appealing to Jeffrey to make last year's interim position permanent. We all know that you two make an unstoppable team. All of last year's contingent benefits would continue as well. I saw that you already took the liberty of parking in the reserved lot."

Jeff looked disaffected, but after stretching it out for a moment said, "Okay. I'm in."

"Excellent!" Dean Pelton clasped his hands together. "I'll have my staff start on the press releases immediately." He turned on his heel and left the room.

"What did you just do?" Troy asked Jeff. "Because I'm having trouble believing that you just said you'd go around in a Greendale cardigan and make an idiot of yourself to win another tiny-ass trophy to put in that empty case."

Jeff shrugged. "Honestly? It's a good way to keep my hand in, now that I'm not speaking in court every day. Plus, you didn't expect me to park among the plebes all year, did you?"

"Well, just so long as you two don't try to win every debate the way you did the one last year," Shirley giggled.

Annie was speechless. She could feel Jeff looking at her. "I think we'll make a great team," he said quietly.

"And can someone tell me what the hell 'fursecution' means?" Troy asked.

"It means that this is shaping up to be an interesting year," Abed answered.


	2. Chapter 2

_Supplementary material for each chapter is available on my LiveJournal, which is linked to in my profile.__ Check it out!  
_

"Hmmm, no, Annie. That won't be possible. There's no one else on the debate team with whom you could be paired. Our goal here is to win, not just go through the motions!" Dean Pelton looked at her closely. "Do I discern a rift in the group?"

Annie had known that it would be difficult to get out of her debate predicament. She had appealed first to Professor Whitman, who had referred her to the Dean. Now, sitting in the Dean's office, sweaty palms pressed between her knees, she realized that she was trapped. "No, it's nothing like that!" she said, trying to sound cheerful. "I just thought it might be more strategic to separate Jeff and me, since we've already proven we're strong competitors. We could be paired with different partners, and then we'd have double the number of effective teams."

Dean Pelton chuckled. "Who d'you expect me to put you with? Starburns?"

"What? Starburns is in the debate club now?"

"Well, no. He was just the first example that came to mind. To be honest," he glanced around to check for eavesdroppers, then leaned closer, ready to confide, "you and Jeff _are_ the debate club this year. We haven't exactly had an upsurge in interest, even after last year's victory. This is the only possible configuration."

"Oh. I see."

"One other thing, Annie. If you can, please keep your hands off of Jeffrey. He never complained about what you did at last year's debate, but he could have made a sexual harassment case out of it. Just something to keep in mind." The Dean waggled his finger at her in mock-seriousness. "But really, you kids have fun, and go win some trophies for Greendale!"

Annie had spent the three days since the semester began deleting Jeff's texts and avoiding him on campus, but she hadn't been able to escape him today when he cornered her after the group's first official study meeting for Anthropology. "Are we going to do this?" he asked her. "I got an e-mail from Whitman with our topic, and we've got a week to prepare for debate at City College. I have the feeling you haven't been getting my texts."

"It's just the first week of class, you know? I have a very full schedule."

"What about the debate?"

"I'll get to it, don't worry," she said airily, hoping to put him off.

"What about now?" He wasn't letting up.

"I have to - " her mind came up blank. She really didn't have anything to do right then. Cursing her lack of ability at extemporaneous lying, she walked back to the table and sat down with a huff. "Okay! Right now, then!"

Annie's mood worsened as their research efforts stalled. "Face it, Jeff. We've got very little data to back up our position, and the judges, as educators, are probably predisposed to be biased against it. The library doesn't have any materials on this topic, we don't have time to go further afield, and the internet isn't helping. We might as well concede the debate now." She folded her arms across her chest, relishing her pessimism.

"What? We're arguing for a mandatory 220-day school year for public schools, not death camps. The judges are supposed to be completely neutral, and you've got almost magical research abilities, so I'm sure you can find something. And don't you have any confidence in my skills?" Jeff smirked at her in a way that would have once increased her pulse rate, but now Annie just felt angry.

"I did almost all of the research for the last debate, and I don't want to remember all of the Spanish homework I did for you over the last two semesters. It's your turn to carry some of the load. Besides, you're the one who's so eager to hone his technique."

Jeff closed his laptop with a snap and stood up, towering over her. Annie suddenly realized that he was furious, and not in the dramatic, verbose way she'd seen before. His face was tight, and he spoke coldly and quietly. "I get that you're upset with me. You ran off last May and didn't speak to me again, whatever. But I didn't commit to this project as a favor to you, and I'd appreciate it if you would snap out of your high-school bullshit temper tantrum and help me do the work to get this done."

Annie was intimidated, but she didn't flinch. She stood up and faced Jeff down as best she could. "A high-school temper tantrum? Oh, forgive me for not wanting to be the choice of last resort when things got complicated for you! I don't even know where you could have fit me in between dating Professor Slater and – and – _defiling_ our study table with Britta! Who, by the way, you obviously ran immediately back to without wasting a minute!"

"What? How did you – oh, god." He sat back down heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Let me guess, Shirley?"

She nodded, unsure how to react. She'd expected a vocal outburst and his swift departure from the room, not this.

"Stuff happened with Britta, yeah. We're both adults. But we're not together. Never have been, and definitely not this summer. She's not in love with me, although she was in love with the idea of beating Slater. I saw her a couple of times since May, first to apologize for running out on her at the dance, and later because we're friends. And that's more of an explanation than I would give anyone else. Happy?"

Far from being happy, Annie was angry, but now at herself. Because of her idiocy, she had ruined whatever might have happened between her and Jeff. They could have been together all summer. Both of them being on the rebound wouldn't have been ideal, but she still wanted to know what could have been. Small decisions in her life kept crystallizing into massive mistakes, the repercussions of which affected her for years.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't apologize. None of it was a good idea."

She took that to include their kiss, as well.

Jeff continued, "Can we just forget it all happened and go back to being friends?"

"Yes."

"Good, because we've still got a debate to prepare for, and you know Simmons isn't going to let this one go without a fight."

Britta showed up at Abed's dorm at the time he'd specified. Entering, she discovered that only Abed and Troy were there, parked comfortably on the sofa in front of the TV.

"Hey, guys. Where's everyone else?" she asked.

"Hey, Britta. Jeff and Annie are getting ready for their debate, Shirley is studying for her first Accounting quiz, and Pierce said that if he had to watch one more movie about whiny teenage vampires, he'd commit seppuku." Abed ticked them off on his fingers.

"So it's just us," Troy said. "Have a seat." He scooted over to give her a place in the middle.

She squeezed in. "I take it we're watching _Eclipse_?"

"Yep," Abed said, fiddling with the remote.

"What about recording? I thought this was an MST3K thing."

"We watch first, get an idea what the film is like, warm up, then we come back tomorrow and do the actual recording."

"Isn't that suspiciously close to what Pierce did that so offended you both? Pre-writing the jokes?"

"Not the same." Troy shook his head. "That was for fun, this is serious. And we're not paying other people to write our jokes for us. Popcorn?" he offered her a tub studded with Raisinettes.

"Have you seen any of the _Twilight_ movies before, Britta?" Abed asked.

"Nope. All I know is that they're about vampires and my nieces love them. Should be interesting, right?"

"Riiiight," Troy said, rolling his eyes significantly at Abed.

"Let's get started!" Abed said.

"Is this a bootleg?" Britta squinted at the screen.

"Yep, it won't come out on DVD for months."

"We're ninjas!" Troy said proudly.

"Pirates," Abed corrected.

"Ninjas are cooler."

Abed shushed him.

An hour into the film, Britta had seen enough. "What _is_ this?" she erupted. "This girl, Bella, has no interests in life besides romance and being turned into a vampire. The two guys treat her like a piece of meat to be fought over. And don't even get me started on the fetishizing of Native American culture! How can we let young girls obsess over this?" She continued on a similar vein for a few minutes before realizing that Troy's eyes had glazed over and that Abed's attention was still fixed on the screen, jaws working as he chewed his popcorn.

"Neither of you is listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

Troy looked at Abed. "Dude, I _told_ youthis would happen," he accused.

"You did, Troy. Britta, untrue. I'm paying very close attention to you, and what you have to say is valid. In fact, I'm being inspired right now." He hit the pause button. "The world doesn't need more RiffTrax. The world does need a feminist, post-cultural-imperialist reinterpretation and parody of _Twilight_, and we're the ones who are going to do it."

"Uh, pretty sure that's been done. On YouTube." Troy said.

"Not the way we're going to do it," Abed said confidently. "Troy, do you still have that long, dark wig we used for our _Kickpuncher_ film?" He stood up and walked in front of Britta, sizing her up and framing her with his hands. "Yes, this will work."

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, no, no, no," she protested.

Troy caught on and started to grin. "Who's Edward and who's Jacob?" he asked Abed.

"I'm Edward. Passionate, brooding, secretive. You're Jacob: brash, athletic, and outgoing."

"Yeah. Yeah, totally!"

"Guys, don't you think Annie would make a better Bella than I would?" Britta was starting to edge toward the door.

"No way," Abed said. "She doesn't have your beliefs or your enthusiasm, so the effect would be lost. Britta, you need to do this. Do this for the young women of America."

She wavered.

"It'll be fun," Troy pleaded. "Think of me! I'm sick of doing sex scenes with Abed."

"He is," Abed nodded.

"This is insane." She was feeling a little lost this semester, though. She still hadn't decided on a major, the thing – whatever it had been – with Jeff was definitely over, and as she'd told Annie and Shirley last year, maybe it would be good for her to do something instead of just talking about it. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do this."

Troy whooped, and Abed said thoughtfully, "We've got to find a wolf suit."

They won the debate against City College, thanks to Annie's statistics about education in Israel and Japan, and Jeff's well-honed technique, which he toned down just enough to placate the judges. Simmons had started out with a smirk and a swagger, but that had been a facade, since he soon wilted, and gave his closing statements in a barely-audible voice.

Sensing an ugly upswell in emotion from the City College spectators after a second defeat at the hands of GCC, and this one on home turf, Professor Whitman ushered Jeff and Annie out to the guest parking lot, murmuring congratulations before he jumped into his car and sped away.

"I think we broke Simmons's spirit," Jeff smiled down at Annie. "Do you feel bad?"

"No."

"Me neither."

Annie remembered again how their last debate together had ended, and how they had parted awkwardly, both aware of the new tension between them.

"This your car?" Jeff asked, nodding toward her mother's sensible sedan, which she'd borrowed for the evening.

"Yes, that's me," she said. But he made no move to leave. She wondered what would happen if she kissed him like she had after the prom, but shied away from the idea. He would be disgusted, no doubt. He was done with her stupid teenage folly. Still, she was acutely conscious of his long body standing close to hers.

"Good job in there, Annie. Really good."

"Thank you. You, too."

"Thanks. Goodnight, Annie."

Alone in her car, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel, feeling defeated.


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, there is supplementary material for the story on my LiveJournal, which is linked to in my profile. _

When Annie entered the study room the next day, she was greeted with applause from the rest of the group. "To the victor!" Britta offered a toast with her water bottle.

Annie blushed as she sat down, but felt warm inside. "We won as a team."

"You mean with that blowhard?" Pierce nodded toward Jeff. "I'm surprised they didn't throw him out."

"You're going to damage his fragile ego, Pierce," Britta laughed. Jeff just looked amused.

"When is your next debate? What's the topic?" Shirley asked.

"When _is_ it?" Jeff said to Annie.

"Next week, and it's at Pueblo Community College. Our topic is gun control."

"Oooh, is your team's position pro or con?" Shirley leaned in, interested.

"Pro."

"I pity you." Pierce shook his head. "Right to bear arms is in the Constitution. You're fighting a losing battle."

Britta smirked. "Typical male. No civilian in modern society has any use for a gun, aside from hurting other people. However, all guns are phallic symbols, and are especially useful for overcompensation when _other_ equipment isn't up to standard."

Troy made a face. "Okay, I really, really, _really_ do not need to compensate, if you know what I mean - "

"Enough!"

"We get it!"

"Come on!"

He frowned, and continued over the chorus of interruptions " - but guns are badass. Can't a guy like them just for that?"

Abed raised a hand. "I have to agree with Troy here. Especially in film, guns are visual shorthand for coolness, violence, and fate."

"And penises," Britta muttered _sotto voce_.

Abed ignored her. "Most directors don't have the skill to go without that kind of crutch. Can you imagine movies like _The Matrix_ or Sergio Leone's Westerns without guns? Even our paintball game wouldn't have been as much fun if we'd been using, say, slingshots instead of guns."

There was a murmur of assent.

"That's not what we're debating, though. Our position advocates the prohibition of personal ownership of guns, not whether or not they're cool in movies," Annie said.

"Doesn't matter. A man should be allowed to like guns without worrying about what it says about the size of his penis," Pierce scowled at Britta.

"True that." Troy and Pierce bumped fists.

"I thought you two living together was going to help you mature, not start you on a second – or, for Pierce, fourth – adolescence." Although sarcastic, Britta spoke without rancor.

"Never overestimate men," Shirley said.

"True that." The two bumped fists mockingly, and Annie thought she saw Britta's eyes flicker toward Jeff.

"What do you think, Jeff?" Abed asked.

Jeff leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table. "Doesn't matter whether I like guns or not. I don't have anything to prove."

No one could argue with that. Annie ducked her head, hoping no one would notice her painful flush.

"As for the debate," Jeff went on, "I'm anticipating the challenge. It's more interesting to be the underdog, anyway."

"Wow, that's a change from Mister 'Doing Any Additional Work Is Failing'," Britta scoffed.

"I've got to get my thrills somewhere."

"I'll bet it's super thrilling to defeat hapless freshmen, too. Not as exciting as getting a drunk driver off with a slap on the wrist, though."

"I thought you guys were done with this," Troy groaned.

Britta winced. "We were. We are. Sorry, everyone."

Pierce snorted.

"Can we study Anthropology? Please?" Annie's warm feeling had vanished. No matter what Jeff had told her about him and Britta, there was obviously still something there, and always would be.

After an hour of work, Abed checked his watch and said, "Britta? Troy? We need to go start on our project. Pierce, sure you won't join us?"

"When you start watching movies that are even worth making fun of, call me."

"What are you doing?" Shirley asked.

"Filming a parody of the _Twilight_ movies," Abed answered.

Shirley made a disgusted face. "I hate those movies. I've got enough petulant children in my life without taking time to watch them on screen."

"So you're not interested in helping us mock them?"

"There aren't even any black people in them besides that one vampire. Who am I supposed to play?"

"There are in _Eclipse_. It's not a problem, anyway. This is a parody."

"Sorry, Abed. I'm still not interested."

"Okay." He left the room, trailed by Britta and Troy.

"Annie, shouldn't we hit the stacks for research materials?" Jeff turned to her.

"Let's go."

After Jeff and Annie left the room, Pierce addressed Shirley. "The younger people have left us alone. I think this is a sign that we should go have a drink."

"Uh-uh."

"Coffee? Strictly platonic. I'm buying."

Shirley raised an eyebrow at him. "In the cafeteria, and only if you're buying."

"Your wish is my command."

"Cut it out."

"Fine."

_Later..._

"This one's going to take more than just research and confidence to win. We need an ace up our sleeve," Jeff said as Annie prowled the aisles.

"What does that mean?" Annie asked suspiciously.

"It means I know a trick or two that will have this one in the bag."

"Some snaky lawyer scheme?"

"Exactly, but it requires prep. I need to make a call."

Annie continued to select books as Jeff held a whispered phone conversation.

He walked back over to her. "We're good. Stash the books somewhere and come with me."

As they left the library and walked across the campus, with Annie feeling like she had to take two steps to keep pace with every one of his strides, she asked him, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Have complete confidence in yourself, no matter what. Don't you ever have any self-doubt?"

Jeff was silent for a moment. "I believe that whatever I try, I'll automatically be better at it than most people, and that it'll come to me easily. Or maybe I know what things I'll be good at, and I don't try the others."

"Hence your freakout over the pottery class?"

"That was an anomaly."

Annie said bitterly, "I wish I could think just once that I'm not a complete failure."

"Some things work out for you, and the other things you fake. Don't assume that I haven't fucked up the most important things in my life."

Annie realized that they'd ended up at the door to the theater department. Eager to change the subject, she said, "Why are we here?"

"For the ace for our sleeve."

They were met at the door by a student who Annie recognized from backstage at Britta's dance recital.

"Annie, this is Mike. Mike's going to hook us up with what we need." Jeff shook Mike's hand, and pressed something into it. "Thanks, man."

Mike nodded at Jeff, then told Annie, "I'm the prop master," with more pride than she thought the statement deserved. He led the two into the warren of rooms that comprised the theater department, and stopped at a table spread with objects. "Here are sidearms, semi-automatics, and bandoliers. We've even got a thigh holster. Take what you need, leave the rest, and have what you borrow back here by the day after the debate, or you'll wish you had."

Jeff twisted his mouth to hide a smile, but nodded solemnly. "You got it, Mike."

Mike left the room. Bewildered, Annie turned to Jeff. "What are we going to do with dozens of fake guns? Have a shootout at the debate? And did you _bribe_ that guy?"

"Gotta do what it takes to keep the wheels of Greendale running smoothly. It was way cheaper than buying this stuff. As for the debate, you're going to be using some of these, yes." He looked over the pile and picked out a sidearm with a holster, three small revolvers, then, with some hesitance, the thigh holster.

"These are all going on you, under your cardigan, at your waistband, and – well, wear a skirt. While you're giving the closing statements, you'll start pulling them out one by one. Don't pretend to fire them, don't even point them at anyone. Just make sure everyone sees them, then lay them down on the nearest flat surface."

Annie was excited in spite of herself. "I see how it would work visually, but isn't it too melodramatic?"

Jeff was smug. "Sure it is, but that doesn't mean it won't be successful."

"Won't someone get offended?"

"Possibly, but there's no good reason why they should. We're just illustrating our point."

"Why do I have to wear them? You've got more room to hide them. You could even add a few."

"We've already planned on you giving the closing statement. And, Annie," Jeff grinned in a way that meant he knew he held the trump card, "this sort of thing always works better when it's a pretty girl doing it."

Annie swallowed hard, caught in his gaze.

They were interrupted by a crash and a familiar howl coming from the next room. "Damn it, Abed, I'm blind! And this thing smells like my grandma's basement!"

"That's - " Jeff began.

" - Troy," Annie finished for him.

_A little while earlier..._

"How do you get all this done, Abed?" Britta asked, impressed.

"Remember when we were running the chicken finger mafia? I still have connections."

"You would be amazed," Troy nodded.

In this case, the connections had provided them with unlimited access to Greendale's prop and and costume department, no questions asked ("Mike's a very understanding guy. A good man to know, too," Abed said.). After finding makeup and wigs suitable for any number of humans, vampires, and werewolves, Abed led them to his treasure.

"There are things in here that haven't been touched since the 70's. Evidently Greendale has a history of very diverse stage productions," Abed explained. "Our wolf costume," he said, pointing at a massive pile of brownish fur. When Britta prodded it with a toe, several clumps fell out.

"That's...great, Abed," Britta said, failing to conceal a grimace of disgust.

"You haven't seen _this_ yet, though." Abed produced it with a flourish. Britta gasped, and Troy leaped back a full three feet, giving an involuntary squeal of terror that he tried to conceal with a deep grunt. Abed's prize was a wolf's head mask, plush, cartoonishly large like a mascot's, and brown to match the rest of the costume. But that wasn't what had startled Britta and Troy. It was the expression on the wolf's face: its red eyes conveyed an expression of rabid insanity, and its mouth was open in a snarl, exposing realistic fangs that had been lacquered to look as if they were glistening with saliva.

"If that's supposed to be Jacob's werewolf form, no one's going to believe that he wants to protect Bella. It looks like it wants to eat her. Not just her, everyone," Britta said.

"Isn't that the point, Britta?" Abed asked.

"Is it?" She was confused.

Troy had made up his mind. "It's awesome! Let me put it on."

Abed tried to settle it over Troy's head, but it went on crooked, leading to the shouts that drew Jeff and Annie in to observe.

"I won't even ask what you guys are doing," Jeff said, watching Abed struggle to center the wolf head on Troy's.

"Is he supposed to be Jacob?" Annie asked in dismay. "That thing is terrifying! It's like something from a horror movie."

"That's the point," Britta said confidently.

"We'll leave you to it," Jeff said, following Annie out.

Britta and Abed finally got Troy into the entire costume, including the paws, the plush hide, and the detachable tail. They walked around him, admiring their handiwork. "Doesn't look half bad," Britta said.

"The movies don't set a very high standard," Abed replied, pleased. "Britta, put on the Bella wig and menace the wolf. I want to visualize the scene."

"I'm still in here!" Troy's voice was muffled from inside the costume. "You can't just talk as if I'm not here anymore!"

"How do you want me to pose the wolf?" Britta teased. "Paws up, claws out?"

"I'll show you claws out!" Troy growled, raising his paws and lumbering after Britta. Laughing, she dodged him and sprinted across the room.

"Very good, very good. Getting into character, warming up." Abed walked around them, envisioning camera angles.

No one in the room noticed Dean Pelton standing just outside the door, transfixed.

...

The next week, Jeff and Annie's final prep session was interrupted by Professor Whitman bursting into the study room. "We have some good news, and some less good news, but in general, this should raise your spirits!"

"I tremble to ask," Jeff said tiredly. Even he had put in a few solid days of research.

"Less positive news first, then," Professor Whitman said. "I regret to tell you that you will be deprived of my assistance and moral support at the debate this Thursday, since my duties here are prohibiting me from accompanying you."

"You've been such a help in the past, I don't know how we'll do it without you." Jeff's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"Your derision is noted and ignored. Since I won't be going, my car is likewise unavailable, and there isn't any official campus transport. If you could use your own vehicles, I will reimburse you for fuel costs."

"I don't have a car, and I can't borrow my mother's that day!" Annie protested.

"I believe Mr. Winger is possession of a Lexus, which can easily carry two."

Jeff nodded at Annie. "I was going to take my own car anyway."

Professor Whitman passed over the slight, and went on. "Now for the good news. In the interest of having our contestants be fresh for an early debate, the college is paying for hotel rooms for the two of you, so you can drive to your destination the night before. The debate, as you know, begins at eight am."

"I'm not sure I want to stay in a Motel Six," Jeff said.

"The accommodations will be up to your exacting standards, Mr. Winger." Professor Whitman handed Annie a printed reservation from a hotel booking website. Jeff peered at it over her shoulder.

"Overpriced, low-end chain hotel, my favorite!"

"They provide a free Continental breakfast," Professor Whitman said with offended dignity, before he marched out.

"Do you think it's a good idea?" Annie was uncertain.

"Getting a good night's sleep beforehand can't hurt. We'd have to leave before five if we drove out Thursday morning."

Annie was more apprehensive about spending so much time alone in a car with Jeff than she was the quality of the hotel. Their study periods had helped to alleviate some of the tension between them, but they had been dedicated to feverish preparation, and had avoided the pitfalls of casual conversation. Jeff could be professional when he chose. "My last class on Wednesday doesn't end until eight. Won't that put us there too late?"

"We'll leave right after and get there around ten. You can go right to bed and rest up before we slaughter the Pueblo team."

She forced a smile. "Great!"

...

Annie settled into the leather seat of Jeff's car. She was accustomed to vehicles that were chosen for durability and affordability, not luxury, so even an aging Lexus was unfamiliar territory. Jeff had looked askance at the size of her overnight bag, but had said nothing, and now graciously proffered the CDs in the console. "Take your pick for road music."

She sorted through them. "U2? Phil Collins? Wilco? Jeff, your whole collection is dad rock."

"Forgive me, my Justin Beiber albums and _Glee_ soundtrack compilations are in my other car."

Annie giggled. "Phil Collins _is_ pretty Patrick Bateman."

Jeff smiled. "When did you see that film?"

"With Abed. I was a little creeped out."

Past ten, they pulled into the hotel's crowded parking lot. Annie presented Professor Whitman's print-outs at the concierge desk. "Two rooms, one for Edison, Annie, and one for Winger, Jeff. They might be listed under Greendale Community College."

The receptionist snapped her gum. "Here's Greendale, but it's one room with two occupants, not two rooms with one occupant."

"That's impossible!" Annie said. "The reservation clearly states that there are two separate rooms!"

"Annie, let me handle this," Jeff said. He smiled at the receptionist, reading her name tag. "Kristin, we're happy to be here at your fine establishment. We have reservations for two rooms, and I'm sure they're in your system if you would please check one more time."

Kristin was exasperated. "There's one room reserved for Greendale, and it's for two occupants: Edison, Annie, and Winger, Jeff. Wanna see?" She turned her computer monitor toward them and jabbed a finger at the listing. _One room, two adults, non-smoking, king-sized bed_.

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "May we please have another room?"

"Sorry, can't. There's a three-day dentists' convention happening. Every hotel in Pueblo is fully booked or over-booked, this one included."

Annie was seconds away from full-scale panic. Jeff seemed to sense her distress, and said, "Kristin, will you excuse us? Annie, can I speak to you?" He led her a few steps away. "Calm down, it'll be okay."

"Let's drive back to Greendale," she blurted. "We can come back early tomorrow morning."

"It's ten thirty. We'd get back after midnight, then have to turn around and drive back here four hours later."

Annie drew several calming breaths. "You're right. That's illogical."

"I am right. People on business trips have to share rooms all the time, and this is no different."

Kristin raised her voice. "Are you going to take the room or not? We have a waiting list if you're leaving."

"No," Annie said. "We're staying."


	4. Chapter 4

_As always, comments are appreciated!_

Jeff clicked on the light. The hotel room contained a bureau, a television, a chair, a desk, and a bed. Annie hung back by the door, unwilling to approach.

"Nice spread," Jeff said, eying the blood-red coverlet splashed with yellow and green paisley. "Looks like a slide from Biology. Paramecium." He dropped his small overnight bag into the chair and waved at Annie. "You coming in?"

She nodded, but only advanced one step.

"Take the bathroom first, if you want. I'll check out the TV line-up. I hear they have HBO." He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be impressed.

"Wait!" Annie said. "Don't touch the remote yet." She set her bag on the floor, pulled a plastic baggie out of an inner pocket, and handed it to Jeff. "Use this."

Jeff examined it. "Use it for what?"

"To put over the remote! Studies have shown that there are more dangerous microbes on hotel remotes than there are on the average toilet seat. I can't imagine the disease potential."

"Always use protection. I see."

Annie blushed at the double entendre and looked away. "I'll be out of the bathroom soon." She carried her bag in with her, which she regretted, since it left her scant room to maneuver in the tiny space. Being away from her regular routines was always distressing for her, so she tended to overcompensate by bringing along everything she might possibly need to make herself feel more comfortable. She hadn't planned on sharing a room, and with Jeff there as an amused spectator, she definitely didn't want to go around setting up candles and her iPod speakers.

Even her pajamas were causing problems. She got cold in hotel rooms, so she'd packed a set of long-sleeved flannel pajamas printed with anthropomorphic sushi. Now she looked at them with loathing. She couldn't bear to walk out in front of Jeff wearing that. Digging in her bag produced a white camisole, which she substituted for the flannel top. Better. Then she realized in horror that she could see her nipples through the thin fabric, so she put the pajama top back on over it.

There was no way she would be able to sleep tonight.

True to her word, she rushed through the rest of her ablutions, and lugged her bag back out of the bathroom. Jeff was sprawled on the bed, making it look much smaller than it had. He held up the remote, encased in its baggie. "You were right. This thing is gross." He took in her outfit. "Did a blizzard blow in without me realizing it?"

"I always get cold in hotels," she said with more dignity than she felt.

"Those will work," he said, heading for the bathroom.

Annie went to the bed and gingerly removed the offending coverlet, wrinkling her nose as she slid it off and dropped it in a corner of the room. She pulled back the blanket and looked at the sheets critically, then got in quickly and pulled them over herself. She wanted to be asleep – or at least pretending to be – by the time Jeff got out of the bathroom. Not that she expected to sleep much, anyway: she was never able to sleep well on nights before important events. Sharing a bed with Jeff would only worsen matters exponentially.

The bathroom door opened and she heard Jeff walk out. Annie peeked at him from under her lashes. He was wearing boxer briefs and a white tank top, and her eyes widened a bit before she forced herself to clamp them shut.

"Are you asleep already?" he asked. She didn't answer, and made her breathing slow and regular, hoping to convince him. "Okay," he said. "I'm turning off the lights."

The room went black from behind her eyelids, and she felt the mattress depress on the other side of the bed as he sat down. The covers rustled, and he settled in.

Annie had never shared a bed before. Sure, there had been a few sleepovers and slumber parties as a child, but those didn't count. She had never slept beside Dave, her high school boyfriend, and of all the things she'd done with Vaughn (and thanks to their taking it slow, those hadn't been very numerous), literally sleeping with him hadn't been one. Somehow, this felt more intimate than anything she'd ever done. In the silent room, she could hear Jeff's breathing, could smell the soap he'd used. He was so close she could touch him if she moved her hand. If she rolled over in her sleep, their bodies would meet. She wriggled a few inches farther away, until she was at the very edge of the mattress.

"I know this is awkward, Annie," Jeff's voice came from the darkness. "But you don't have to worry. Get comfortable. Pretend I'm not here."

That was never going to happen.

He snored. Of course he did. The digital clock glowed 12:05. She'd been laying there sleepless for half an hour. Adding to her torture was the temperature. Although it was a cool night, Jeff radiated heat, and Annie felt smothered inside her layers of flannel and cotton. Accustomed to her cool, silent, dark bedroom, the noise and the light seeping in around the drapes was unbearable. Trying to cool off, she stuck one exploratory foot out from under the covers, then another. It wasn't helping.

"Do you always move around this much?" Jeff asked, his voice deepened with sleep.

"You're too hot," Annie said.

"Thanks, I know I am."

"That's not what I meant! You're like sleeping with an electric blanket. It's hot in here."

"I could turn on the air conditioner, or you could try shedding a layer of your snow suit. I'm not going to see anything, and if you can't sleep this entire thing is a waste."

"And you snore."

"No I don't." He sounded offended.

"Yes, you do."

"Whatever, I'll roll over."

Realizing that she had to get some relief, Annie took off the pajama top. Then, after a few seconds, she squirmed out of the bottoms and kicked them out of the bed. Panties and a camisole weren't too revealing, she reasoned, and she could wake up early and get dressed anyway.

She managed to doze off, then snapped back to wakefulness, shivering with cold. She snuggled deeper under the covers. The clock read 12:33. Turning over, she looked down at the floor where her pajama bottoms had landed, and gauged how much effort it would take for her to get out of bed, put them on, and get back in as quickly as possible.

"What's wrong now?" Jeff said, resigned.

"I'm cold," she admitted miserably. "You can stop telling me to go to sleep, too. I can never sleep the night before anything important. Tests, papers due, presentations, anything. It's pointless."

Jeff rolled over to face her. With her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see him clearly. He looked very young with his face relaxed and hair rumpled from the pillow. He studied her for a moment, then turned on his back and propped a pillow behind him to support a reclining position. "C'mere," he said.

"What?"

He stretched out a long arm and gathered her in, tucking her alongside his body. After a surprised moment, she complied, turning into his warmth and pillowing her head on the thick muscle of his chest. Her heart was thudding rapidly, and she wondered if he could feel it. "What do you watch on TV when you can't sleep?" he asked. "Food Network? _Cops_? I always go for _Law and Order_ reruns."

Annie could feel his voice rumbling through his chest, and it reverberated all the way down to the pit of her stomach. "I – I don't have a TV in my room," she answered. "They're detrimental to study habits."

"Home Shopping Network it is, then."

Lulled by the glow of the television and Jeff's regular breathing, she found herself relaxing. She felt Jeff smooth her hair. "Go to sleep, Annie."

So she did.

* * *

"Annie." A hand on her shoulder.

Unsure for a moment where she was, she attempted to focus her eyes. Jeff was standing over her, and awareness returned.

"It's six. Thought you might want to wake up."

Annie nodded.

"I'll be in the shower. You said you wouldn't be able to sleep, but you never moved, and when I woke up you were drooling on my chest." Jeff grinned.

"What?" she yelped, but he had already shut the bathroom door behind him. She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, wiping her mouth and wondering, embarrassed, whether she had been drooling. She felt betrayed by her own body for sleeping when by rights, she should have been awake most of the night double-checking her notes and rehearsing her points. The only difference between previous sleepless nights and last night had been, well, Jeff.

The hiss and whine of the shower reminded her that just on the other side of the bathroom door, Jeff was very naked, and her traitorous mind supplied her with a detailed memory. She realized that the night could have turned out differently. Her imagination took over with a quick succession of images: Jeff's mouth, a hand fisted in the sheets, an involuntary gasp. She shuddered, hot all over, and leaped to her feet, desperate to distract herself.

Annie slung on a robe from her bag, looking down aghast as she realized what she'd worn while sleeping, and pulled out her debate notes. Here was something quantifiable she could focus on. The anxiety she ordinarily would have nursed all night came back to her in a flood, and by the time Jeff got out of the shower, she had whipped herself into a froth of panic.

"What do you want to bet that the continental breakfast doesn't offer anything that isn't carbohydrate-based?" Jeff asked, running a hand through his hair as he took an final appraising glance in the mirror. Then he noticed her look of wild-eyed desperation. "Something happen? Bad news?"

"I can't do this," Annie said, her voice shrill. "All of my arguments are weak. You have to give the closing statements, and maybe some of my other points, too. I can do some last-minute research while you have breakfast, and - "

Jeff spoke over her. "You could win this without me, Annie."

Shocked into silence, she goggled at him.

"You could take it if Starburns were your partner," he continued, coming to stand in front of her. "Sure, it wouldn't be easy, but you could do it. You've gotten good, Annie, very good. Formidable," he smiled.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Jeff's expression softened as he looked at her, and Annie felt drawn to him as if by magnetic force. "Let's get some breakfast," he said, deliberately breaking the moment.

After showering and choking down a few bites of the yogurt Jeff had brought her, Annie struggled into her collection of plastic weaponry. None of the holsters were made for someone her size, so the one on her shoulder flopped around under her armpit, and she had to cinch the one on her thigh down tight to its smallest fit. Coming out of the bathroom, she twisted to look at her back in the mirror, trying to smooth over the telltale lumps at her waistband and against her ribs.

"It looks like I'm smuggling water bottles. I'm going to get laughed out of the room," she said. Jeff was in the chair, playing with his phone. He glanced up and assessed her.

"The secret is to act like you always pack heat. Then no one will question you."

She gave him an exasperated glare and tried to cross her arms, but was stymied by the shoulder holster.

"I'm not kidding. Convincing yourself is the most important part. You know all the pros and cons of the topic, and you've played devil's advocate against yourself at every turn. Now's the time to stop it. If you can believe that your position is correct and that whatever the other side says is irrelevant, you'll convince the judges, too."

"What if the opposition believes the same thing?"

"Easy. We're better than them."

"Is that how you won your court cases?"

"Most of them." He stood up and offered her his arm. "Ready to do this?"

* * *

The audience for the debate at Pueblo Community College was smaller and less enthusiastic than City College's cheering section, and seemed to consist of sleepy, bored students loitering between classes. The debate team itself was less lackadaisical. A dark-haired, bespectacled boy and a blonde woman, both clad in PCC blazers, were consulting intently with their coach. They turned toward Jeff and Annie as they walked toward the front of the room, and the blonde eyed Jeff with a smile. Annie stiffened and resisted the urge to glare. She had no claim on Jeff. Every leggy blonde in the world could smile lasciviously at him if they liked. Jeff's face showed only studied indifference.

As the team defending the issue, Jeff rose first to present their opening statement. He spoke mildly but well, only allowing himself to crack a smart-assed grin as he finished off with a particularly salient point. Their competitors appeared unfazed by Jeff's performance, and the woman walked to the podium with perfect composure. As she began spitting out pertinent, well-researched facts, Annie looked at Jeff anxiously. He shrugged and mouthed, "Irrelevant."

The judges' impassive faces revealed nothing as the debate progressed. Annie thought their rebuttals were apt, but the boy was as quick-witted as his teammate, and his response earned a few scattered whoops of support from the audience. When the time came for Annie to give her closing statements, she was brimming with tension, and as she shuffled her notes one last time, Jeff gripped her arm and said in a low voice, "You need to nail this."

She tried not to clank audibly as she took her position and presented her final points. Then, leveling her gaze at the judges' table, she went in for the kill. "For every one time a gun is fired to defend its innocent owner, a gun is fired four times in an accidental death or injury," (she partially untucked her blouse, pulled out the two guns at her waistband, and set them down on the podium) "seven times by a criminal, resulting in casualty or death" (out came the gun from the shoulder holster), "and eleven times for suicide, whether attempted or successful" (she withdrew the gun at her thigh as discretely as possible). "In the interest of healthy families, schools, and communities, those are unacceptable odds." There was scattered applause from the spectators, as well as a few wolf whistles. Annie returned to her seat and couldn't resist flashing a grin at Jeff, who returned it with a nod.

The boy on the opposition gave his closing statements, looking a good deal less cocksure than he had before, and cast a glare at Annie as he left the podium. The judges silently tabulated the score before one of them stood up and said, "Ordinarily we would frown upon props and gimmicks, but when coupled so effectively with excellent skills in logic and forensics, we must give the victory to - " here he paused for a significant moment, and someone in the audience yelled, "Get on with it, Tom Bergeron!" The judge frowned with incomprehension, and finished " - Greendale Community College."

Annie leaped to her feet, heady with triumph, and launched herself at Jeff. Surprised, he let out a strangled "Ummph," but caught her.

"We won!" she yelled somewhere in the vicinity of his left armpit.

"I think most of our wins are going to conclude with someone throwing themselves at me. At least your trajectory was shorter than Simmons's." She could hear the laugher in his voice, and his arms tightened around her.

Jeff released her as they were approached by their opponents. "I guess every tiny victory must seem sweet when you have to attend Greendale," the boy sneered.

"Suck it, Harry Potter," Jeff replied, towering over him.

Spluttering with rage, the boy stomped off, leaving his female teammate looking amused. "High school advanced placement program," she told them. "He's a pill." She stuck out her hand for them to shake. "Congratulations. Great job. Your ending points were brilliant, and it kills me I didn't think of the concealed weapon trick."

"That was Jeff," Annie said modestly.

"You're the one who executed it, though. Must be nice to be able to do this with your boyfriend."

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! He's just – we're only - "

"Yeah," Jeff interjected. "Debate partners."

"Okay," she said with a dubious lift of her eyebrows. "I hope you're both in the program next year. I like having worthy opponents."

As the woman walked away, Annie turned to Jeff and said, "Did you really call that kid Harry Potter?"

"What if I did?"

"I'm surprised."

"Abed showed all the movies at Pierce's house over the summer. They explore some very complex themes."

* * *

Britta watched as Abed applied his Edward Cullen makeup: foundation a shade too light, faint circles under the eyes, a touch of mascara, and shading on the cheekbones to emphasize the hollows underneath.

It was, she had to admit to herself, alarmingly hot.

Abed caught her gaze in the mirror they were both looking in, and said, "It's influenced as much by Nosferatu as by modern vampire tropes. I wanted to up the horror factor."

Britta nodded.

"But I don't want to downplay the sexuality, either. The slightly feminized appearance of the _Twilight_ vampires appeals to many women. I know I have it going on, so I don't want to mess with that," he said, deadpan.

Troy slammed the door behind him as he entered Abed's dorm. "Guys, they're picketing us!"

"Picketing _what_?" Britta asked.

"Us! Our movie! Look out the window!"

The three crowded in front of the window, which overlooked a parking lot for the dormitory. There were a dozen or so protesters who were marching in a circle and chanting,

"Join the rev-o-LU-tion!

Stop the fur-se-CU-tion!"

Some of them had signs with slogans like "Support the fur!" and "No more fur discrimination in movies!"

"What the fuck," Britta said.

"What do we do, Abed?" Troy looked at him.

Abed smoothed down his shirt and stood up straighter. "This is my _Last Temptation of Christ_ moment," he said.

Britta and Troy stared at him, incredulous.

"No, not like that. Although it could be argued that there are some messianic traits in the vampire mythos, considering it deals with death, resurrection, immortality..."

"Abed."

"Sorry, Troy. I mean, Scorsese was picketed and his film was banned in multiple countries. Now I have to deal with that in microcosm at Greendale."

"This isn't garden-variety Greendale insanity, though," Britta said as they walked toward the parking lot. "I think there's something more to it."

The chants increased in volume as the protesters noticed their approach. Britta picked out some familiar faces in the crowd, including Starburns, Garrett, and Leonard. One girl waved her sign in Britta's face. "How can you perpetuate the hate? I thought you were progressive and open-minded!"

Abed strode into the middle of the crowd, with Britta and Troy trailing him. Several of the protesters shrank back, alarmed by his vampiric visage. Abed raised his voice. "You've been misinformed about the content of our film. Without revealing too much, it's a parody of a popular film franchise, and it has nothing to do with ridiculing special interest groups. Are any of you actually furries?"

"We were told that picketers got union wages," a student shrugged. Several others agreed.

"As an otherkin, I feel allied to the furry cause," Garrett said.

"I'll explain later," Abed whispered to Britta.

"Stallion animagus, motherfuckers!" Leonard shrieked, hoisting his sign higher aloft.

"That's from _Harry Potter_, moron," Dean Pelton hissed, appearing from behind an SUV. "Can't you get anything right?"

"Dean Pelton?" Britta said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm – supporting student activism!" he said, fiddling with his tie.

"You paid them to protest, didn't you?" Britta stared him down.

"Being concerned about discrimination and social justice is in the best interest of every member of university - "

"College," Starburns interrupted.

" - _college_ administration!" the dean finished, exasperated.

"Mmmhmmm," Troy said, arms crossed.

"All right! I may have _encouraged_ them to become involved with an important, albeit overlooked issue!"

"Encouraged meaning bribed?" Troy wouldn't back off.

"Dean Pelton, why don't you come with us and look over the script? You can make sure yourself there's nothing offensive in it," Abed said.

"That might be a good idea," Dean Pelton conceded.

"It _is_ a good idea." Britta grasped one of his elbows, and Abed took the other as they guided him back to the dorm.

"Go back to your ordinary activities!" Dean Pelton shouted over his shoulder at the bewildered former protesters. "I'll inform you of any further developments!"

Starburns tried to follow them into the dorm, but Troy shut the door in his face. "Furry issues concern me!" Starburns yelled from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, shaving shapes in your facial hair doesn't count!" Troy yelled back. "Does it?" he asked Dean Pelton.

"Definitely not."

"Good, thought so."

Abed handed Dean Pelton the script, and he paged through it with trembling hands.

"As you see, Jacob's wolf form is an important part of the story. His transformation is meant to represent the larger theme of the suppression of Native American masculinity," Abed said.

"I do see."

Britta leaned closer to the dean to confirm her suspicions. She was right: tears were streaming down the small man's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"You wouldn't understand. None of you would." Dean Pelton was making no effort to conceal his sobs.

"Try us," Abed said gently.

"All of my life – all of it! I've been searching, wondering. I finally found the one thing that makes me feel happy and secure and _right_, and come to find out that it's ridiculed and hated by everyone. No respect. No confidence. I could lose my job if the wrong people found out."

"I can understand," Abed said. "That's almost what my life was like before I came to Greendale. I didn't have any friends. No one liked me. I was the weird guy with 'Assburgers' who spent his life watching TV and going to therapists. Now I've got six great friends, and we're all a little crazy, and I'm doing what I always wanted to do. So maybe there's hope for you, too."

"That was amazing, Abed," Britta said, moved.

"I'm not crying. There's uh, fur in my eyes," Troy sniffed.

Dean Pelton was staring at Abed with a hopeful look.

"You could play Jacob in his wolf form, if you wanted," Abed told him. "Troy hates wearing the suit, anyway."

"Yeah, I'll be Beauty and you be the Beast!" Troy wrinkled his face, thinking through his analogy. "Ah, never mind."

"My name couldn't be in the credits, of course," Dean Pelton said slowly.

"Of course not. Perfect anonymity. Alan Smithee," Abed assured him.

"Then I would be honored."

"Hey, how did you know what we were doing to begin with? Or that it had anything to do with animal costumes or suits?" Britta asked, eyes narrowed.

"I – well, I may have accidentally seen one of your rehearsals," Dean Pelton admitted.

"Creeper," Troy said.


	5. Chapter 5

_As usual, there's bonus material for each chapter available on my LiveJournal, which is linked on my profile. All comments are appreciated!_

_

* * *

_

Annie and Jeff returned to the hotel briefly to pick up their luggage and check out – and in Jeff's case, skin out of his Greendale cardigan. "It's not something I want to wear all day," he said.

Annie retired to the bathroom to remove her weaponry. She smiled at herself in the mirror, basking in the feeling of being confident and happy. She'd spent the entirety of her high school years fantasizing about the day when she would enter a prestigious university and her real life would begin. But maybe she didn't need that. Maybe this was her real life.

Stacking the shoulder holster and all of the plastic guns on the bathroom counter, she bent to unbuckle the holster on her thigh. Annie was relieved to take it off, since the nylon straps were biting into her skin. She pulled the end of the strap through the metal buckle, but it wouldn't come free, so she tried hooking her thumbs into the top of the holster in order to drag it down her leg. She discovered, however, that the compression of the straps had made the flesh underneath swell, and with a whine of pain, she abandoned the attempt.

Jeff knocked at the bathroom door. "Ready? Check out time's at eleven."

"Just a minute!" Annie hopped around in a circle, trying to keep her balance while fighting with a buckle she couldn't see. There was a cold prickle down her leg as the straps started to limit blood circulation. "Darn it!" she said under her breath.

"I can't get it off," she announced to Jeff, limping out of the bathroom and dumping the guns into her duffle bag.

"Get what off?"

"The stupid thigh holster thing you made me wear!"

"How can it be stuck? Unbuckle it, or slide it down your leg."

"You don't think I tried that already? It's cutting off my circulation!"

"Let me see. Maybe I can get it off."

Annie backed away in horror. "It's under my skirt!"

"I know it's under your skirt," Jeff said, exasperated. "I can help you, or we can drive back to Greendale and Britta and Shirley can."

"I can't make it back to Greendale like this," Annie admitted. "It really hurts."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

Sure that this was rapidly ascending the list of her life's most ridiculous moments, Annie lifted the edge of her skirt up just enough to reveal the holster on her upper thigh, while keeping her knees pressed tightly together.

Jeff bent sideways to peer at it. "Annie, I can't see it like that. Here, put your foot in the chair." He dragged it over to her.

She did, and folded her knee-length skirt back over the holster while keeping it tucked down securely in front and back. Jeff knelt in front of her, bringing him closer to eye-level with her propped-up leg. Realizing the awkwardness inherent in their relative positions, Annie wished she could cover her face to hide her embarrassment. The times she had imagined something like this – and okay, there might have been one or two, in her least-repressed moments – it hadn't been mortifying and silly.

As he tugged at the buckle, Annie kept expecting Jeff to say something smart-mouthed that would break the tension, but he remained silent, head bent, and she couldn't read his expression. "I've got it," he said finally. "Part of the tongue got stuck in the webbing of the strap." He freed the strap and drew the holster off, careful not to touch her.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Jeff looked up at her, eyes dark. He grazed his knuckles up her leg and she shivered. "It broke the skin, though. You might want to put something on it." His thumb was rubbing maddening circles into her inner thigh, and all she could do was nod. She felt as if an electric current were running through her skin, and it was being generated where he was touching her.

Jeff's Blackberry began to buzz on the bureau where he'd left it. "Should you get that?" Annie ventured.

He jerked his hand off of her leg as if her skin was burning him. "Right, yeah," he said, getting up and reaching for it.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Annie pushed the chair away and smoothed down her skirt, feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. "Hi, Professor Whitman," Jeff was saying. "Yes, we won the debate. Oh, the hotel called you?" He cleared his throat. "No, no shenanigans whatsoever." Jeff caught Annie's glance, and stuttered. "Ah, that's offensive, and I have no idea why you would even suggest it. I'm hanging up. Goodbye."

Jeff looked contemplative, and shook his head as if to clear it. "He's happy we won."

"Good," Annie said, zipping up her duffle.

"But the dean is concerned you might have used the shared hotel room as an opportunity to sexually harass me."

* * *

Arms crossed and face blank, Abed was staring down at the surface of the study room table as if it had something important to tell him. Britta raised her eyebrows at Troy, who frowned. Not even Pierce and Shirley's arrival stirred Abed from his scrutiny.

"Hello, everyone!" Shirley greeted the three. "Are Jeff and Annie not back yet?"

"Nope," Troy said.

"We haven't heard anything from them," Britta added.

"What's wrong with Abed?" Pierce asked, sitting down. Cupping his left hand around his mouth to shield his words from Abed, he stage-whispered, "Has he finally gone full retard?"

Britta and Shirley recoiled.

"Not cool, Pierce," Britta said sternly.

"How could you say that?" Shirley agreed in disgust.

Pierce puffed out his chest and scowled. "Settle down, you two. It's an inside joke. I'm quoting a much-beloved movie we watched together many times over the summer."

Shirley and Britta looked to Troy for affirmation, which he provided with a nod. "Pierce wanted to watch _Tropic Thunder_ every day."

"It speaks to me! It's about my generation!"

"You wanted to be able to laugh at a dude in blackface."

"It's social satire! Ask Abed!"

Abed didn't respond.

"He's having problems with the project," Britta explained. "He says that something important is missing, and that it's not coming together like he wants."

Shirley looked sad. "I miss the group being like it used to. Jeff and Annie are off doing debates, and Troy and Britta and Abed are working on their project - "

"And you and I are having our coffee dates," Pierce cut in with a leer.

"What?" Britta squawked.

"Sometimes we have coffee in the cafeteria as friends," Shirley said flatly. "Because he's not always an ignorant fool."

Pierce gave a self-satisfied smirk.

"Only most of the time," Shirley finished. "But it's not the same as all of us being together."

At that, Abed raised his head and snapped his fingers. "That's it."

Shirley looked confused.

"Trying to finish a film like this with only the three of us was a mistake. It needs all of us to work: Shirley's compassion and nerve, Annie's drive for perfection, Jeff's arrogance, Pierce's unique generational perspective. We can live together, or we can die alone."

"Isn't that from _Lost_?" Britta asked.

"Doesn't matter. Still works in context."

"Well, I'm in," Pierce said, slapping his palms flat on the table. "I heard about the protests, and I'll participate in anything that helps to stick it to The Man."

"Pierce, you _are_ The Man," Troy said, and received a harrumph in response.

"Shirley?" Abed turned to her. "We need you."

She didn't need much coaxing. "All right. You three have been having too much fun with it."

"Jeff and Annie won't be so easy to convince," Britta said.

"I don't know." Troy shook his head. "Jeff joined the debate team again. Who knows what crazy shit he'll agree to do next?"

* * *

What should have been a silent, tension-laden drive back to Greendale turned out to be pleasant and comradely. Jeff seemed to be ignoring everything that had – and hadn't – happened back at the hotel, and kept Annie giggling with anecdotes about former clients and colleagues.

"Where are we going?" Annie asked as Jeff turned off on an unexpected exit.

"Lunch. It's past twelve. Aren't you hungry? There's an Italian place close by that's good."

"I don't know..." she trailed off uneasily.

"Hey, we're billing Greendale for this one."

"Is that how it works?"

"You don't think schools take sports teams out after games? Right now we're the only winning team Greendale has. Seems reasonable to me."

"They might give us vouchers for the cafeteria. Not lunch at a restaurant."

"I'll pad out the gas receipts."

"Professor Whitman teaches Accounting! Don't you think he'll notice?"

"Annie, that man's concept of double-entry bookkeeping only extends as far as it was covered in Robin Williams's film career."

"What about class? We might not make it back for our afternoon classes if we stop."

"I promise I'll get you back in time for your three-thirty. Deal?"

So it was settled.

Over lunch Jeff started to tell her about what he'd done with his life in between not going to college and obtaining a fallacious law degree. Annie couldn't attribute his openness to alcohol, since he'd waved away the proffered carafe of red wine (Conscientious? Or unwilling to admit that his dining companion was underage? She wasn't sure).

"My parents separated when I was small. But I'm an only child and my mother has money, so - "

"I knew it!" Annie said.

"Knew what?" Jeff frowned at being interrupted. "You aren't going to get all Br - " his lips formed "Britta", but he backtracked hastily and substituted " - belligerent on me for having money, are you?"

"No, I knew you were an only child. You're too selfish and self-absorbed not to be."

"Hey! Aren't you an only child, too?"

"I didn't say I wasn't selfish." She widened her eyes mournfully, knowing the affect it had on him. "You did tell me once that I'm just as selfish as you are."

"And I apologized."

They both smiled.

"Anyway," Jeff went on, "After a few years of dissipation and traveling and enjoying myself post high-school" (here Annie gave a disapproving look), "one of my friends recruited me to help him study for the LSAT. I took a practice test and got 172. That's, ah, a great score."

"I know."

"Just making sure. I decided to take the real test, if only to rub it in my mother's face, and got flooded with invitation letters from law schools. Some of the best. I was 23, and realized I could do something with my life, but there was no way I was going to go back and spend four years grinding out an undergraduate degree when I could start at the top. So I had a friend dummy me up some paperwork and a diploma, and I went through law school and passed the bar with no effort."

"You avoided college a decade ago only to have to interrupt your career and do it in your thirties. It is ironic."

"Karma, more likely. You've probably never avoided anything unpleasant in your life, have you?"

Spurred by the atmosphere of talkativeness, Annie told him more about what high school and rehab had been like for her, and something about her and Dave. She included few of the details she'd revealed to Shirley and Britta, but did allude to the abortive nature of the relationship.

Jeff listened attentively, and Annie was struck by how comfortable she was talking to him. Nothing about it felt like the uneasy exchange of confidences between a teenage girl and a thirty-something man. They were equals, if not in age and experience, at least emotionally and intellectually.

Back in the car, covering the last few miles back to Greendale, Annie thought about what it would be like to be with Jeff. There would be no long, placid, unsure period of taking things slow like there had been with Vaughn. If dating Vaughn had been wading in the warm shallows, dating Jeff would be like jumping off of the highest board into dark water: anticipation, trepidation, and an exhilarating fall into uncertainty. Both relationships involved a relative loss of control and lack of assurance, but one seemed to offer more rewards.

Annie watched Jeff's big hands on the steering wheel, easy and confident. She wanted it. She wanted him.

* * *

They found Shirley in the cafeteria, poring over her Introduction to Management textbook. She sprang up when she saw them. "Oooh! How did it go? Did you win?"

"We did," Annie smiled proudly.

"That's wonderful!" Shirley hugged both of them, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Abed wanted me to tell you he'd like to see both of you in his dorm room as soon as you got back."

"Why?" Annie asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Fine, but why the cloak and dagger routine?" Jeff raised an eyebrow.

Shirley just shrugged mysteriously, trying – and failing – not to smirk.

"Does this have anything to do with the _Twilight_ thing he and Britta and Troy have been working on?" he pressed.

"Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn't."

"Where _are_ Britta and Troy?"

"Somewhere around here."

Annie looked at her cell phone. "It's two-fifteen. I have time to see him before my class. Should we go?"

The hallway outside Abed's dorm was deserted, and it was silent behind his door. Annie raised her fist to knock, but Jeff caught her hand before it made contact with the wood. "Hold on. The door's ajar, and I bet Troy and Britta are in there. Let's see what they're doing."

Annie was dubious. "Abed's probably taking a nap in there. It's rude to barge in."

"You weren't around over the summer, and have no idea about all the stupid shit Troy and Abed pulled on everyone. I'm not letting this opportunity pass." With that, Jeff pushed the door farther open and stuck his head inside. After a moment, he drew away, a huge grin on his face. "You've got to see this." He stepped aside so Annie could take his place.

Looking over the dresser, Annie could see the sofa, where Abed, Britta, and Troy were dozing, tumbled together like a pile of sleepy puppies. She swallowed a giggle and turned back to Jeff. He held a finger up to his lips.

"One more thing." He reached for something sitting on Abed's dresser, and pulled out a vuvuzela. "We'll give them a wake-up call," he said with evil glee.

"Jeff! That's mean!"

"It's justice. Abed shattered my eardrums with this during every World Cup game we watched, not to mention during other inappropriate moments. Time to use it against him."

Annie peered around Jeff as he pushed the door all the way open, stepped inside the room, and blew a cacophonous, buzzing blast. Britta awoke with a scream, and Troy jumped up, yelling "They're coming for us! They're coming now!" Abed opened his eyes and blinked with a placid, pleased expression.

"Hey, guys," Jeff said sweetly. "Did you have something you wanted to tell us?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! Don't forget to check out my LiveJournal, linked in my profile, for still more supplementary material for the story._

As she was being frog-marched across campus between Troy and Abed's campus security doppelgangers, Annie's mind flashed over the events of the previous twenty-four hours. She'd slept with a man for the first time in her life, and it had been disappointingly platonic. She'd helped to win an important debate using guile and cunning. She'd trespassed in a friend's dorm room. And now, for the second time in her life, she was facing expulsion from her place of education, and this time it was happening without the benefit of the shame-numbing affects of performance drugs.

"You okay, Annie?" Jeff said from close beside her, where several members of the football team were manhandling him in the same direction she was going – namely, toward the dean's office.

Jeff's clarion blast on the vuvuzela had roused more than Abed, Troy, and Britta: it had brought the entire dormitory building to sudden life. There was at least one thing that could unite the lethargic Greendale student body. The sound of pounding feet and furious shouts of "I hear it!" and "What the _fuck_, man!" alerted Annie and Jeff to the fact that the repercussions of Jeff's prank might be more far-reaching than they had previously anticipated.

The hallways had started to swarm with angry students, some of whom had boldly entered Abed's dorm room. "Did you blow it?" one of them asked Annie. "Guys! Guys! It was this chick here!"

Campus security had taken her in spite of her protests of innocence and Jeff's shouts proclaiming his culpability. "Bring them both," not!Abed ordered, and the football team had closed in around Jeff.

"Abed! Troy! Tell them it was a joke!" Jeff yelled over the team's heads. Their friends remained silent, and although Annie couldn't see them around the press of bodies, she thought she heard Troy's snicker.

On the way out of the dorm, Jeff had twisted himself out of the grasp of his red-bearded oppressor, but not!Troy had waved his Taser at him menacingly. "Don't make me use this on you again," he said, at which Jeff had subsided.

Now, seeing Annie nod in assent to his question about her wellbeing, Jeff turned to their captors. "Tell us what's going on," he demanded in his authoritative lawyer voice. "This is fucking ridiculous. I cannot believe you're treating students like this. It's grounds for a law suit."

"You'll have to talk to the dean," not!Abed said, stony-faced.

"At least let Annie go. She had nothing to do with it." Jeff put his hands behind his head and started taking longer strides in the direction of the administration building. "You want me, you've got me. Let her go."

"She was a participant."

Annie looked at Jeff helplessly. "Maybe Dean Pelton can help us," she said without much conviction.

He didn't. With Jeff and Annie seated in front of him and their security contingent grouped behind them, Dean Pelton rocked back in his desk chair and crossed his arms, a grave expression on his face. He waved away the onlookers, leaving only the three of them in his office.

"Dean Pelton," Annie began, desperate to state her case and end the fiasco.

"Uh-uh-uh," he tutted, holding up a hand to silence her.

Jeff wasn't so easily stifled. "What is the meaning of this?" he burst out. "In what was clearly a violation of our sixth amendment rights, we were seized without warning, assaulted, and brought here with no explanation of any alleged offense we might have committed."

"Your pseudo-litigious tactics aren't going to work this time, Jeffrey," Dean Pelton said. "You've finally gotten into a situation you can't talk yourself out of. The articles of student behavior you both agreed to when you enrolled this semester clearly outline the penalties awaiting anyone who causes any sound to emit from a vuvuzela while on Greendale Community College property."

"But it was okay for Abed to have one in his dorm room?" Annie asked.

"It should be deemed an attractive nuisance," Jeff backed her up.

"The vuvuzela is part of Mr. Nadir's cultural heritage, and as such he his permitted to keep one in the residence hall."

"Abed's not South African!" Annie protested.

"No need to drag race into this conversation, Miss Edison," Dean Pelton said sternly.

"Can we at least see a copy of these articles of student behavior?" Jeff said. "I'm not convinced such a rule actually exists in writing."

"Certainly. I have handbooks here for both of you." Dean Pelton pulled two identical volumes off of a shelf and plopped one into each of their laps. Annie flinched as hers landed on her legs: the spine was at least four inches thick. She paged through it until she found "vuvuzela" listed under the "Addenda for Fall 2010" section.

"The penalty for blowing a vuvuzela is harsher than the one for cooking meth on campus!" she said, furious.

"You weren't here this summer, Miss Edison, and have no idea of the utter havoc created by those horns of evil. I think the punishment is proportionate to the amount of damage they've caused among the Greendale student body."

"There's nothing proportionate about three hundred hours of community service and a notation on my permanent record!"

"Annie didn't even touch the thing," Jeff said. "In fact, she begged me not to blow it. There's no reason why she should be involved."

"Complicity is as damning as commission."

Jeff rubbed a hand over his face.

"I do have something to show you two to prove that you aren't alone in your plight, and that I dispense this punishment even-handedly to everyone. I think you know Ben Chang, a former teacher at Greendale?" Dean Pelton opened a video file on his computer and spun the monitor around so that they could all see it. "He was caught blowing a vuvuzela during the second summer session, and I had him filmed this morning as he completed his service hours."

Annie and Jeff watched as the former Senor Chang, clad in the fluorescent lime green vest student offenders had to wear, slouched around under the trees in the quad, dragging a trash bag behind him as he collected litter. When he became aware of the camera tracking him, he turned toward it and shook a fist. Then he made a sign with his first two fingers.

"V for victory?" Jeff asked, puzzled.

Chang brought his fingers to his lips and wagged his tongue through them obscenely.

"Oh. Not that kind of victory."

"That's enough," Dean Pelton blanched, clicking the window closed. "Okay, so I didn't have time to watch that one before you came in, but it does prove my point: no one escapes the justice of Greendale."

"What about debate?" Annie persisted. "If we're doing hundreds of hours of community service, how will we have time to finish the season? We did win the debate this morning, and - " she recalled Jeff's words from earlier " - right now we're the only winning team Greendale has. That must count for something."

"I have considered that, and it's the sole reason why I'm prepared to offer you two a compromise of sorts."

"_Now_ you get to it," Jeff grumped.

"Don't assume I'm going to let you off easy." Dean Pelton half-rose in his chair, and called, "Mr. Nadir? Please come in."

Annie and Jeff turned and gaped in unison as Abed entered the office, trailed by Britta and Troy, who were wearing identical smirks.

"Mr. Nadir is working on a project of great relevance to the student body at Greendale, and he needs your assistance. So I am releasing you into his recognizance, and I expect you both to do whatever he requires you to do to complete his task."

"You set us up, didn't you?" Jeff accused Abed, eyes narrowed.

"Aren't we friends, Abed?" Annie was hurt. "You could have asked us to help you out. This would've gone on my permanent record!"

"Sorry, Annie," Abed said. "But I wasn't sure if you would agree, and I needed you. Plus, the scenario was too perfect to resist. I've always wanted to organize a sting."

"We're pawns in his sick little game," Jeff said to Annie. He swept his gaze to include Britta and Troy. "As for you two, what's your excuse?"

"Uh, because it was hilarious?" Troy said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Britta raised her eyebrows and gave Jeff a significant look, at which he deflated.

"Whatever, take us to our punishment," he said.

"Yes, please go." Dean Pelton flicked his fingers as if to shoo them out. "Keep me updated in their progress and willingness to cooperate, Abed!"

"I will," Abed promised as he led them out of the room.

He puckered his lips and whistled a few very recognizable notes when Jeff exclaimed, "If you start with the theme song to _Bridge on the River Kwai_, so help me, I'll - "

"Sorry, Jeff. Let's go, guys! We've got a movie to make."

* * *

Abed ended up leading them into the study room, where Shirley and Pierce were waiting. High-fives and congratulations were exchanged among the jubilant conspirators, and they began to explain to Jeff and Annie how the plot had been devised.

"I set the trap," Shirley preened.

"Shirley!" Annie was half-smiling, half-accusatory.

"I knew you were being unnaturally devious," Jeff said.

Troy explained, "We had to keep Pierce out of that part, since he would've given it away."

"But I filmed it!" Pierce waved his cell phone.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Abed forestalled Jeff and Annie's protests. "His camera angles and shot composition were so awful that you probably couldn't be recognized. And his phone only has enough memory for thirty seconds of video. And he doesn't know how to upload files to YouTube."

"Hey!"

Everyone ignored him.

"It was awesome," Britta summed it up with a look of quiet satisfaction.

"You're only happy that for once you were part of a prank that didn't involve anthropomorphizing animals," Jeff snarked.

"Aw, are the grapes sour?" Britta mocked him in a whining tone. "Jeff is jealous he couldn't think of something as clever."

"Were you and Troy actually asleep?" Annie interrupted.

"They were," Abed affirmed. "They got bored waiting and fell asleep. Of course, that couch _is_ very comfortable."

"It's called Method acting," Troy said peevishly.

"Yeah!" Britta chimed in.

Jeff waved his hand for silence. "You're ignoring the most tenuous part of the plot. Fine, Shirley lured us into Abed's dorm with her heretofore undiscovered talent for deceit." He tipped his head to Shirley, and she laughed delightedly. "Fine," he continued, "Greendale has draconian and byzantine rules concerning the use of various South African instruments, and you were able to use them to your advantage."

"What's up with the fifty-dollar words, Mr. Pompous?" Pierce grumbled.

"You're only upset because you can't Google the definitions fast enough to keep up," Annie said.

Abed tilted his head, considering. "He is right, though. Jeff's vocabulary has improved lately."

"It's debate. Do enough research and the words start to get ingrained in your mind. And is everyone forgetting that I have a law degree?"

Pierce wouldn't let it go. "I think it's Annie rubbing off on him."

"No is _rubbing off on_ anyone else, especially Annie, you filthy old man," Jeff snapped.

"That's not how I meant it. Who's filthy now?" Pierce crowed to a chorus of assent.

"It is disturbing that your mind went there, Jeff," Shirley said.

Troy shuddered.

Annie wasn't sure where to look.

Half rising from his chair, Jeff employed all of his silencing puppet-master techniques at once: zipping hand motion, glare, and sardonic half-cough. It worked, at least for a moment.

"That won't work as well if you overdo it," Abed shook his head.

"How did you know I would blow the fucking vuvuzela?" Jeff bellowed in frustration. "I never touched the thing all summer, never showed the slightest interest in it. How do you go from there to basing your whole scheme on my grabbing it with no prompting?"

"Easy," Abed said. "Even though you never touched it, your looks of longing were impossible to miss, and your protests of hatred and indifference were too extreme to conceal your interest. You may think you're hard to read, Jeff, but when you really want something, you can't hide it."

"Nah, it's 'cause Abed just _knows_ things." Troy tapped his forehead. "Mysterious powers."

"I'm not that easy to read," Jeff scoffed. "I prefer to believe Troy."

"Yes, you are," Britta retorted.

"No, and I - "

"Me, me, me, I, I, I. Do you ever shut up about yourself, Jeff?" Pierce asked.

"He doesn't," Annie said, unthinking, hoping to lighten the tone of the conversation. "He's even noisy when he sleeps."

Five pairs of eyes swiveled toward her, and five mouths gaped wordlessly. Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"He...snores?" she continued weakly, aware of the horrible mistake she'd made.

The wordlessness from the group lasted approximately two more seconds before they all started talking at once.

"Calm down, guys," Jeff enjoined. "There was a mix-up at the hotel, and we had to share a room."

"People have to do it all the time on business trips," Annie added, trying to sound blasé.

"Not people of different genders." Britta was suspicious.

"That's sexist, Britta!" Annie said. "Jeff was a perfect gentleman."

"Hold on, wait, don't say another word." Pierce held up the hand that wasn't tapping on his phone.

"What?"

"Give me a chance to surf over to urbandictionary. I need to find out what sex position the 'Perfect Gentleman' is."

* * *

After the group's furor had subsided, Abed took Jeff and Annie aside to explain their parts in the _Twilight_ parody to them.

"Edward isn't really a vampire," he said as he handed them sheets with character descriptions. "He's a seventeen-year-old virgin with narcissistic personality disorder. He pretends to be a vampire because he can't relate to other people without using the medium of an alternate personality, and because he thinks it'll make him more attractive to gullible young women. Also, he can't compete with the perfection of his sister and brother, Rosalie and Emmett." Abed nodded at Annie and Jeff.

"Siblings who are...romantically involved?" Jeff skimmed over the sheet.

"Rosalie is his biological sister and Emmett is his step-brother. More _Cruel Intentions_."

"Still creepy."

"Incest is a common device. You have _Star Wars_, _Back to the Future_, any number of television shows, especially those with cult followings - "

Annie was fidgeting, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and finally interrupted Abed. "What about Jasper and Alice and Carlisle and Esme?"

"Not in it. They're all interchangeable pretty rich white people with problems. Your characters are all we need. The comedy is based on sociological, racial, and gender issues; the problems that arise in modern relationships; and finding identity while still being a member of a group."

"I can see the rich vein of uncomplicated humor in that," Jeff said dryly.

"You've seen the movies. They're obviously ripe for parody."

"You've seen the movies?" Annie turned to Jeff in surprise.

"You've watched them, too!"

"Annie's a teenage girl. It would be more remarkable if she hadn't seen them," Abed explained.

Jeff closed his eyes and sighed. "What has my life become? That was a rhetorical question, by the way."

"What are my character's motivations?" Annie asked Abed, ignoring Jeff. "I want to be able to portray Rosalie convincingly."

"Being aloof and intimidating, and maybe a little evil."

"Evil and intimidating? Do you think I can do that?" She was excited.

"I have confidence in you, Annie."

Jeff spoke over both of them. "For the record, I only watched them to make sure I was getting the highest possible benefit out of my premium cable package."

"Mmmhmmm," Annie rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Jeff," Abed nodded.

* * *

Both members of the debate team had been granted a reprieve from their schedule, since Professor Whitman informed them that the final debate wouldn't be held until the end of October. That gave them ample time to work with the rest of the group filming the parody.

Although she was secretly pleased to be involved in the project, Annie soon discovered that her acting skills were limited. The few scenes she was in usually ended with her turning to Abed and apologizing. "It's fine, Annie," he said. "Rosalie is very brittle and withholding, so keep that in mind."

"We know Brittles is withholding," Pierce chimed in from the sidelines. "That's the only way to explain how she's been able to cock-block Winger all this time. Cock-block," he sniggered again with childish pleasure, looking around the room for a response. Everyone refused to humor him.

Annie watched Jeff and Britta from the corner of her eyes, but they were both unaffected. The mood of their interactions had shifted. They still squabbled and picked at each other, but in a comfortable, friendly way that was devoid of the sexually-charged nature of old. Even Shirley had stopped being sentimental about them.

Britta was sitting on the arm of Troy's chair, resting her chin on his shoulder as he sorted through video files on Abed's laptop. Strands of her dark wig brushed against his arm, and as he reached up to move them away, she grabbed at his hand and he smiled at her. Abed was watching them both intently. Something was definitely going on there, Annie decided, but she wasn't sure what it was. Abed and Troy behaved around each other as they always had, and while Britta remained as baffled as the rest of the group by some of their odd jokes and methods of communication, there seemed to be a new rapport among the three of them. Whatever it was, it made Britta less prickly. It hadn't altered the fundamental group dynamic, but it had added an interesting new texture.

Abed returned to bustling around, setting up for the next scene. "Rosalie and Emmett, now," he said. "This is the pivotal scene where you destroy Edward's life and drive him into his vampire fantasy. Remember, Annie, that Rosalie is the dominant one in the relationship. She's evil and scheming. Emmett is the dumb jock she seduced. He'll do her bidding, but she does care for him.

"And they're brother and sister," Jeff said, still perturbed.

"Not biologically." Abed held up the camera. "Emmett, put your arm around her."

Jeff complied, and Annie stood stiffly under its weight. They'd spent little time together in the days since their last debate and Annie was beginning to think she'd imagined the things that had happened between them – that is, between the moments when she would glance up to find Jeff looking at her, an inscrutable expression erasing the usual flippancy from his face.

Abed lowered his camera. "Like you mean it."

His fingers curling around her upper arm, Jeff drew Annie closer to him, then bent and brushed his lips against her temple. Breath catching with shock, she looked up at him. He lowered his head to hers, so close she thought he would kiss her. "Like this, Abed?" he asked, still holding her gaze.

"They're good," Shirley said, astonished.

Abed resumed filming "I think they've discovered a new fount of inspiration."

At the end of the scene, Abed released them for the day, but drew Annie aside. She watched Jeff's retreating back, wishing she were following him from the study room, but tried to be attentive to Abed as he explained changes to her lines in the script.

* * *

Exhausted after a day of classes and shooting, Abed, Britta, and Troy were sprawled on the dorm couch, with Britta's feet in Abed's lap and her head on Troy's shoulder, the Bella wig dangling off of a bedpost, and the wolf costume thrown in a corner of the room where it had been since Dean Pelton had finished filming his scenes. Abed's face still bore traces of Edward's stage makeup, and Troy was wearing Jacob's ludicrously tight brown tank top that he claimed embarrassed him, but which he didn't often bother to change out of, either.

"Dean Pelton wants to the film to premiere during Furry Awareness Week, which starts next Thursday, so we need to get the last of the footage in the can," Abed said.

Britta wrinkled her nose. "Is that really the venue you had in mind for it?"

"Wait, the week starts on Thursday now?" Troy was baffled.

"At Greendale it does, and I didn't mean a literal can," Abed forestalled Troy's next question, then addressed Britta. "If my fellow students can't relate to my work, how will any audience connect with it?"

"How does he do that?" Troy asked Britta. She shrugged, too relaxed to over-think anything. "This has been fun," he went on. "I thought it might be stupid to do a movie about some lame romance story, but it's been pretty bad-ass, especially with you two."

"Thank you, Troy," Britta said sincerely. Abed offered a solemn fist bump.

"Maybe we can do a musical next so you can show off your awesome dance skills," Britta teased.

"Nah, huh-uh. I've still got some pride."

"Dancing can't be any more emasculating than _Twilight_."

"I think she's on to something." Abed said.

Troy groaned, then said, "I know we're not taking this seriously, but who do you think Bella should end up with, Britta? You hate Edward, so...Jacob?"

"Aww, I don't _hate_ Edward. Not really. He's uptight and can't convey his emotions properly, and he can be controlling, but I bet he's really pretty cool. The whole alpha-male bullshit between the two guys needs to stop. They need to realize the tension between them means something. They should all, like, get together for some hot threesome action and work it out." Britta froze, realizing the implications of what she'd said. She yanked her feet off of Abed's lap, and turned so she was sitting upright between them, trying unsuccessfully not to touch either of them on the tiny couch. She could feel both of their eyes on her, so she got to her feet and backed toward the door.

"I don't know about Abed, but I'm okay with you having sexual fantasies about us." Troy grinned.

"Some people might even say we come as a set," Abed put his arm around Troy and waggled his eyebrows at her.

Troy frowned. "That's kinda creepy, dude." Britta nodded in agreement.

Abed shrugged, unconcerned. "My point still stands."

Britta's first instinct was to turn and run, given her past emotional experiences at Greendale, but she couldn't do that to Troy and Abed. Neither of them was a Vaughn or a Jeff Winger, and behind their respective friendly leers she could sense vulnerability and a reticence that matched her own.

"This is weird," she said finally, "but I think we've already driven past the 'Welcome to Weirdsville' sign, so..." she trailed off.

"To continue the analogy, we've also already stopped in Weirdsville and decided to stay there," Abed said.

"Yeah, we pulled into the Weird hobo camp by Weird river, and we're cooking weird beans over a weird fire, and we had a baby we named Weirdy." Troy was getting in to it.

"Let's make it the Weird motel instead, okay?" Britta said with a nervous laugh. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that. It's just – guys, I don't know what I mean. I know I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"No biggie," Troy said, trying to be smooth. "Come back, sit down, we'll watch a movie."

Britta sat on the corner of the bunk instead. "I think we should erase that conversation from our memories."

"Like _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_," Abed nodded.

"Was that the one where Kate Winslet had blue hair?" Troy asked. "I didn't like it. She's not hot with blue hair."

"I know what to do." Abed got up and rummaged through a drawer, retrieving a pack of Smarties. He put one into Britta's palm and one into Troy's before taking one for himself. "Not the same as the movie, but these can be symbolic of memory erasure, eliminating any lingering awkwardness between us."

"Like roofies?" Troy squinted at his Smartie.

Britta rolled her eyes at Troy, but popped the candy at the same time as Abed and Troy did theirs, feeling somewhat better.

"Are we going to watch a movie now? Nothing with vampires," Troy said.

"Sure," Abed replied, again perched on the couch. "You staying, Britta?"

"Yeah." She returned to sitting between them.

"We can't watch anything too long tonight." Abed clicked through a DVD menu. "We've still got all the sex scenes to film tomorrow."

* * *

The next afternoon, Annie arrived in the study room for filming to find only Jeff and Abed there. Abed was sorting through the strewn props and costuming that had taken up residence in the study room since Dean Pelton had given them exclusive use of it for the duration of the shoot. He came up empty-handed, then spotted Annie. "I only need you guys for two more short scenes, so everyone else is taking a break. Can I see your copy of the script, Annie?"

She set her backpack on the table and withdrew the binder where she kept all of the paperwork she needed for that day's activities. All of her homework was alphabetized by the last name of the professor to whom it should be submitted, so the script should have been under 'N' for Nadir, Abed. It wasn't. It wasn't under any letter in the binder. That led to an increasingly-urgent exploration of the three back-up files that held syllabi and grading rubrics for every class she'd taken so far at Greendale – she might, she reasoned, need them to back up her transcripts when she transferred – and the retro-styled Trapper Keeper where her typed notes resided. The script was not to be found. Abed and Jeff watched with growing interest as she began to methodically empty her backpack of all of its contents, from her daily vitamin packet, to a small sewing kit, to nutritionally-balanced protein snacks, to sachets of Crystal Lite to flavor bottles of water, to three different kinds of colored markers and pencils for highlighting. Finally, the only thing left in the backpack was her tiny cloth bag with emergency tampons, which she shoved down deeper into its pocket.

Jeff regarded the array of objects on the table with amazement. "When the nuclear holocaust comes, I'm sticking with Annie. We'll survive at least a few days off of the contents of her backpack."

"It's not here, Abed," she said with despair. "I must've forgotten it!"

Abed scrutinized her. "Is something wrong, Annie? You don't forget."

Then Annie realized what had made her leave the script behind. Late last night she had been writing an itemized list, highlighted in coordinating colors, of all the reasons why she needed to stop thinking about Jeff, and why nothing should ever happen between them, including why every time he had touched or kissed her had been either an accident or a mistake. Then her mind had wandered, and instead of empirically analyzing those incidents, she had started to relive them in great detail, and – it was that simple. Jeff Winger was making her stupid. His moronic face and ridiculous hair and his (her mind shied away) _other parts_ and the way he looked at her were distracting her from school and studying and commitments to her friends. She glared at him.

"What?" he said, uncomprehending.

"Nothing," she huffed. "Abed, I am so, so sorry I didn't bring the script. I don't have a car today, but I can call my mother and have her bring it to me when she gets off work at five. Please forgive me. You know I don' t do things like this!"

"It's cool, Annie. It's just that your version had changes that I hadn't saved anywhere else. Without them, we can't start shooting, and I wanted to be finished with all of the supporting characters' scenes before five."

Feeling horribly guilty, she said, "Maybe someone in the group can give me a ride home. I'll ask Britta."

"I'll take you," Jeff volunteered. "You don't live far from campus, do you?"

Annie knew she shouldn't get back in a car alone with Jeff's aforementioned stupid attributes. "Okay," she heard herself saying. "We can get there and back in half an hour."

"Cool," Abed gave the thumbs up. "Camera will be rolling by the time you get back."

Shoveling everything back into her pack and grimacing over the disarray, she trotted after Jeff out to the parking lot. "On the road again," Jeff said after they were both settled in his car.

"I'd hardly call driving across town being 'back on the road'," Annie replied tartly.

"Is this going to be like the beginning of the semester when you were upset with me for days? Because that? Was tedious."

"I'm not upset with you. It's - " she hesitated. "Nothing. It's nothing." Annie _was_ upset with Jeff, though. She resented the way he had invaded every corner of her mind. She couldn't even get dressed in the morning without trying to anticipate how he might react to what she was wearing: too travel agent? too schoolgirl-ish? Being with Vaughn had been nice, and she'd thought of him a lot, but when she needed to, she could banish all thought of him while she accomplished something else. Nothing about Jeff was manageable or easily constrained.

"Huh." Jeff was unconvinced.

Annie directed Jeff the short distance to her house, and in the light pre-rush-hour traffic, they arrived within minutes. He followed inside the comfortable, unassuming ranch house.

"It's in my room, so wait here," she directed him as she turned down the hallway to her bedroom.

"Need help?" Jeff asked, sticking his head around the corner.

"No!" Annie shut the door in his face. It wasn't the overall decorating scheme of the room that made her keep Jeff out of it, but because more than a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, their pristine condition a testament to both Annie's fastidiousness and her position as an only child, stared down glassily from a high shelf that spanned one wall. They were a jarring counterpoint to the seafoam-and-white Pottery Barn chic of the rest of the room, and the struggle she'd put up to keep them from going to Goodwill was in no small measure a reflection of the conflict over her decision to attend Greendale, since her mother would have preferred that Annie take classes online rather than to suffer the indignity of the family's social circle finding out that Annie was attending a local community college.

She found the script on top of her desk, and rejoined Jeff in the hall. "Let's go! Abed's waiting."

He seemed to be in no hurry, and instead asked, "You're enjoying this whole vampire movie thing, aren't you? Someone needs to tell Dean Pelton it wasn't a punishment."

Annie considered the question. "I guess I am. It's a chance to be something different. Everyone sees me as being childish and silly and naïve, so..."

Jeff moved a step closer to her. "I don't."

Afternoon sunlight from the hallway windows slanted in over Jeff's shoulder, highlighting his cheekbone and the faint lines by his eyes. Annie found herself focusing on the scar on his upper lip, and then he was kissing her. There was no thought of taking things slow – there was only Jeff, and how much she wanted him. Her lips parted under his, and she clutched at the front of his shirt greedily, pulling him closer as she stood on tip-toe. He drew her up to him, one hand at the small of her back, as they half-walked, half-stumbled into her bedroom and tumbled together ungracefully onto her bed, his hips coming to rest between her parted thighs.

As Jeff's hand traced its way up her leg, he broke away from her mouth long enough to grin down at her. "Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when you wear skirts?" The breathless laugh she gave in response turned into a gasp when a shift in his position changed the way he was pressed against her, prompting him to rock his hips again, slow and deliberate. He lowered his lips back down to hers, and the tiny part of Annie's brain that wasn't occupied with panting into Jeff's mouth and arching up against him informed her that very shortly, she would be having sex with a smart-ass, thirty-something ex-lawyer in her childhood bed.

It was contrary to everything she'd ever planned or imagined, but somehow, it seemed perfectly right.

Annie's hands were making their first tentative foray up under Jeff's untucked shirt when the front door slammed and her mother's voice drifted down the hallway. "Annie? Are you home already? You know I don't like it when you leave your backpack in the hall. Oh, and the neighbors are parking in front of our house again. Who is it that owns a Lexus?" Before Annie could answer, her mother called, "I'm going out again to shop for dinner. Move your backpack." The door opened and closed.

Jeff rolled off of Annie with a muffled groan, and lay on his back beside her on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The quick rise and fall of his chest matched that of her own. Annie awkwardly pushed her skirt down without sitting up.

"There are a lot of eyes in here," Jeff said at last, and Annie realized he'd spotted her toys.

"They're collectibles," she said, knowing she sounded ridiculous.

"We're really going to do this, aren't we?"

Annie was uncertain. "Do what?"

"The you and me thing."

"Is that what you want?"

"I think you know I want you."

Her stomach flip-flopped. Jeff turned his head to look at her, and Annie wished that he would kiss her again. And she wished that he would go away and stop complicating her life and let her get back to being her old repressed self.

She sat up. "We should get back. Abed's waiting for us."

Jeff stood, tucking in his shirt and bending to look at himself in her dresser mirror. "He'll probably be able to tell from the look on my face that I've haven't been able to stand by my own injunction about keeping my hands off of the teenager."

Annie bristled. "Why should we care about what he knows?"

"It wouldn't improve the general perception of my moral standing."

"You didn't have much ground to lose there, anyway." She paused. "Is that how you think of me? As 'the teenager'?"

Jeff sighed. "Annie, you're _you_, not your age." He hesitated. "That night in the hotel room was the first platonic night I've ever spent with a woman. It wouldn't have happened that way with anyone else, but I didn't want to take advantage of the situation. I value what we have more than – well, more than most things."

"Do you value it enough to break a light sweat?" Annie smiled up from under her lashes, made shy by her own boldness.

He laughed then. "In any number of ways."

Annie took the extended hand Jeff offered. He twined his fingers through hers, and she led him out of the room. "Back to Greendale?" he asked.

"Always," she replied.

* * *

"Attention, Greendale students," the public address system crackled with Dean Pelton's voice. "I hope you're enjoying the second day of our four-day Furry Awareness Week! Yesterday evening was a big success with our Furry Cotillion, and if you didn't come, you missed the event of the season. This afternoon is the premiere of _Tooth and Nail_, a film made by members of our very own student body. It's a very significant piece of art, and while attendance isn't mandatory, it is strongly suggested for all of you eager beavers out there." There was a pause, as if to let everyone properly appreciate the _faux pas_.

"It starts at six pm in the cafeteria. Be there, or be furry or feathered! Or both. Both, really."

In the cafeteria at five thirty, Jeff slid into the chair beside Annie's. The tables had been replaced by rows of seating, and a large screen was hung over the bank of windows.

"Kind of early, aren't you?" he asked.

"I wanted to get a good seat. Rumors about the film are flying around campus, and who knows how many people might show up."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Oh, that it's bizarre and funny, which it is. I did overhear Starburns telling someone there was a threesome in it, but that's ridiculous, since we know that didn't happen."

"What?"

"I know! Outrageous, isn't it?"

Jeff hummed in response, then stretched, arms up, before bringing one back down around Annie's shoulders.

"Jeff!" Annie looked around the room to see if any of their friends were present. "Do you want them to find out?"

"Find out what?" he asked, moving over in his chair to be closer to her.

"That – well - " she twisted her head to stare at the intruding arm.

"The sneaking around thing is going to get old fast," he said flatly. "Hell, I'm already tired of it and we haven't even started. They're going to find out sooner or later, and it might as well happen before anything else – or anything at all – happens. I'm not ashamed of wanting to be with you. We can deal with them."

Although somewhat mollified, Annie still had objections. "Britta's going to be furious, and Shirley will try to shame you into next week. Abed and Troy will make fun, and Pierce will be gross."

"Pierce is always gross."

"That doesn't help."

"Abed and Troy won't care after the first five minutes, Shirley thinks we're both too adorable to stay mad," (Annie gave him a dubious look) "and," he finished with a smirk, "I have the feeling Britta's about to get trampled under the hooves of her own high horse."

Troy entered the cafeteria, trailed at a distance by a group of giggling young women. He hurried over to them, peering over the lenses of a pair of dark sunglasses. "Are they still after me?"

"Do you mean half of the female members of the freshman class?" Annie asked, pretending to be casual as she forced herself not to duck out from under Jeff's arm.

"Yeah, yeah. Man, this paparazzi movie star thing is hard work. Taylor Lautner makes it look so easy, but I can't escape them!"

"Is that why you're wearing sunglasses indoors?" Jeff kept a straight face.

"I'm trying to be incognito at my premiere."

"Maybe it would help if you weren't wearing a tank top that would fit a twelve-year-old," Annie said smartly.

Troy was offended. "Hey, I'm _in character_. This shit is what Daniel Day-Lewis does."

"The film wrapped two days ago."

Troy waved away her objections. "I need to find Abed. He'll know what to do." He started to walk away, then turned and came back, looking confused, and stared at Jeff and Annie for a few seconds. "Is there – do you two - " He shook his head. "Never mind. Forgot what I was thinking." He left, still being pursued.

Jeff scarcely had time to say, "That's one down," before Britta skidded by them with in flurry of blonde curls.

"Have you seen Troy?" she demanded.

"If you can catch the scent of the herd of his feminine admirers, he won't be far behind," Jeff said.

She scowled, and with a huff of frustration, stalked away.

"She didn't even notice," Annie boggled.

"She will. She's got other things on her mind right now."

"Look at you two post-coital snugglebunnies." Pierce sat down close by.

Annie stiffened.

"Pierce, I'll overlook your crudities just this once, because you're crass so rarely, and because you're a friend," Jeff said.

"No explanation for the PDA, then?"

"I was cold, and Jeff was polite and offered to help me warm up."

"Ha! I didn't know that was part of the requirements of friendship. Call me the next time you get cold. Or better yet, Winger, scoot over and let me take over that duty."

Annie glared at Pierce, and he raised his hands in exasperation. "Fine! Whatever wild and kinky adventures you kids get up to is your business. I'm more interested in my debut as a film star, anyway." He crossed his arms and stared at the blank screen at the front of the room.

The lights in the cafeteria went dim, and Annie caught a glimpse of Abed setting up a projector at the back of the room. More students began filtering in, Shirley among them. She sat beside Pierce, distracted from noticing Annie and Jeff by the darkened room and the increasing hubbub. Britta and Troy arrived, Britta having evidently wrested Troy from the clutches of his fans.

Looking around the room, Annie estimated that the cafeteria was near capacity, an amazing turnout for Greendale. Dean Pelton walked to the front of the room, and tapped on his microphone for silence. "Students! Welcome to the premiere of a true work of art that sprouted from the fertile soil of our very own green dale. I think its message, one of acceptance and joy in individuality, is self-explanatory, so without further ado - " he handed the microphone off to Abed.

"Hey guys." Abed gave a small wave. "We had fun making this, and I hope you have fun watching it. This is a work of parody, and as therefore comes under the fair use doctrine of U.S. copyright law. So don't sic Stephenie Meyer on us." There was a trickle of laughter from the audience. "It has plot twists." Abed stared right at Jeff and Annie. "I love plot twists."

Greendale seemed to enjoy the movie, as waves of laughter frequently swept through the room. Pierce and Shirley had performed well as Charlie Swann and various members of Jacob's family, respectively, but it was Abed, Britta, and Troy's roles that captured the audience's attention most.

Pierce, chomping noisily on popcorn, chortled. "The only believable parts of this movie are the ones I was in, and the love scenes. Hot stuff, Britta."

Annie, who had been distracted by Jeff's fingers on the nape of her neck, brought her attention back to the screen. Bella, in an PG-13 embrace with with Edward – _and Jacob_ – Annie suddenly noticed, was certainly ardent. She looked up at Jeff in bewilderment. "Was that in the script?" she whispered.

"Not in the version we got."

"There is a director's cut, too," Abed stage whispered from a few seats over.

"What?" Britta yelped.

"Shhh!" someone hissed.

"I don't think I'll be inviting my church friends to watch the DVD," Shirley said, wide-eyed.

"Told you we had nothing to worry about," Jeff murmured.

Across the room, Dean Pelton, flanked by his Dalmatian companions, was sobbing openly.

"This is going to go viral," Abed smiled at the screen with quiet assurance.

Jeff pulled Annie in closer.

* * *

_Dean Pelton no longer hides his fondness for Dalmatians, and has the support of the Greendale staff and community, with the exception of Professor Whitman, who is a cynophobe. _

_Britta still rides her moral high horse, but only on issues not relating to who is dating whom in the study group._

_Shirley discovered that many of her church friends secretly watch _True Blood_, and thus were not at all shocked by her participation in Abed's film. She still has occasional coffee klatches with Pierce, and donates the money she thereby saves to charity. _

_Abed is developing a new project, with Troy and Britta as his muses._

_As a nascent film star, Pierce attempts to sell autographs to the Greendale student body, with limited success. _

_Troy poses for pictures in his Jacob costume (but not in the wolf suit), with great success. troyisjacob__.com__ was a featured site on CollegeHumor. _

_Jeff and Annie won their last debate, and led Greendale to its second consecutive victory in the regional debate circuit. A second trophy, somewhat bigger than the first, sits beside it in the case. Similarly, a second toothbrush and an even more extensive collection of hair care products have appeared in Jeff's apartment. _

Tooth and Nail_ has received more than five million hits on YouTube. _


End file.
